“Madras”… Beautifully made, but with little to say

It’s probably very reductionist to describe Pa Ranjith’s Madras as Sathya meets Subramaniyapuram – but that’s how I saw the film. From the former, we get a young man’s coming of age against a knavish political backdrop. Like Kamal Haasan’s character, Kaali (Karthi) is a graduate with a merry bunch of friends, and instead of carrom they play football. They live in cramped quarters in Vyasarpadi. The song that takes us through these surroundings – Enga ooru Madrasu – is a younger sibling to Madura kulunga from Subramaniyapuram, and Madras reflects that film’s obsession with chronicling the environs with near-anthropological acuity. The congregation of plastic buckets around a tap. The peeling paint on the walls. The obsessive football games. (A child goes by the name of Ronaldo.) The Ilayaraja hit parade. The ease with which the young take to violence, and the effects on their lives, their loves. (Kaali’s romantic interest is Kalai, played by a wan, miscast Catherine Tresa.) It’s all there.

And we’ve seen all of this before. The story revolves around the dispute over a wall that hosts the painting of a political leader, and when a character from one side tells the enemy “Idhu enga area, enga suvaru,” we are reminded of Enga area ulla varaadhey, the song from Pudhupettai that also invoked Vyasarpadi as one of their areas. The now-violent-now-tender (and very physical) relationship between Kaali’s friend Anbu (Kalaiarasan) and his wife Mary (Ritwika) is reminiscent of the Madhavan-Meera Jasmine track in Aaydha Ezhuthu. (Kalaiarasan and Ritwika make a far more convincing pair than Karthi and Catherine Tresa.) And the narrative treads a familiar path – scenes of friendship and romance first, and then the heavy stuff. But Ranjith, whose first film was the delightful Attakathi, is a good filmmaker and a thoughtful one. From the beginning, where the screen splits in two to mirror the splitting of a political party into two factions, it’s evident that his technique has become sharper. (This, again, reminded me of the early scene in Pudhupettai, where the right half of the screen is lit in a lurid red, the left in an equally lurid green. Madras goes on to use colours to differentiate the areas in which the two split factions operate.)

The energetic filmmaking dusts the cobwebs off Madras. When Anbu and Kaali are joshing about on the football ground, we see this as a series of alternating long shots and mid shots – we get the sense that something larger is at play, and soon enough, there is. The way the crowds gather around a corpse is equally brilliant – we feel the claustrophobia. (The scene begins brilliantly – some low-level ambient sound, and then a woman’s shriek pierces the air.) It’s a cliché to call scenes sculpted, but that’s what we have here – the presentation of Kalai’s past in vignettes mirroring the narration being given to Kaali; the music-backed montage of happenings, both romantic and violent, in the neighbourhood; the footsie-playing cross-cut with high-level deal-making; the stylised local dancers who show up in happy songs as well as sad numbers. Santhosh Narayanan contributes heavily. The songs are superb and the score is even better, eschewing themes for primal sounds. (An action scene in the first half echoes with drums that sound like a heart hopped up on adrenalin.)

But the writing isn’t up to this level. The domestic scenes are fine – the one where Kaali’s mother (Rama, the Bharathiraja heroine who got to wear the trademark white frocks in Ey rasaathi) keeps rejecting prospective brides is a riot. And I liked the slivers of political philosophy, as when a party worker advises Kaali to get married and have many babies because their strength is in numbers. But beyond a point, it becomes difficult to overlook the familiarity of the material. The romantic track is intrusive, and the songs are badly placed. And it’s a problem when a film made in 2014 is telling us the same things about how politics works as Sathya did – in 1988. The ending is a disaster, the result of one of those do-gooder impulses that strikes filmmakers on occasion, when they feel they have to not just make a movie but remake a society. It’s also hard to buy into Kaali’s character once he transforms into something of an action hero. (The scene where his fight with thugs is cross-cut with his moves on the football field is laughable. At least if this had been his first fight sequence, we might have bought the conceit.)

This is easily one of Karthi’s better roles, but his tendency to oversell an emotion – when compared to the natural-seeming supporting cast, almost everything he does is accompanied by an exaggerated facial expression – doesn’t help the character of Kaali, who also comes off as aloof. We don’t know why he does what he does. He’s an IT graduate, working in a software firm, making decent money. He wears branded stuff – Proline sweatshirts and Adidas track pants. People keep referring to him as something of an outsider, as a “padicha paiyan.” At one point, Anbu says, “Un vaazhkaye vera.” So what keeps him here, and what draws him to the political skirmishes around the wall? Is it a Michael Corleone kind of situation, where an outwardly civilized man finds himself unable to escape the savagery running through his veins?

Or is it something more… sinister? One way to read Madras is as a quasi horror film, with the wall the equivalent of, say, the Overlook Hotel in The Shining, a source of evil that turns everyone in its vicinity. It’s wild, I know – but hear me out. The film begins with what could be termed the “legend” of the wall. After a series of killings, a red stain appears on the wall and it keeps spreading. Thereon it is often filmed in perspective – it looms. The streetlight in front keeps flickering, casting ominous shadows on it. People refer to it as a malefic being: “Adhu bali pottudum.” Sure enough, accidents keep happening around it – also, a suicide. In one stretch, Kaali’s bike breaks down near the wall… and it’s night… and there’s the eerie feeling that he’s being followed… and he keeps getting blank calls… If the point is that this whole culture of worshipping personalities through their likenesses on walls is similar to a horror show, who will disagree?

An intriguing movie with a bunch of obvious flaws. Both karthi and the heroine looked out of place in an otherwise convincing cast. Its bit of an irony that even the director who opens his movie with a song ” idhu karuppar thamizh mannu ” is reluctant to cast a dark skinned heroine . The obligatory romantic part of the movie was annoying. The other couple made a greater impact .

The way I see it , the movie intends to show the political parties exploiting the slum dwellers. Using them as scapegoats . The last movie that attempted this was barathiraja’s en uyir thozhan . Interestingly the leading lady in that movie is the mother in this .

Loved the opening number. The first half was fun and fresh .after the friend’s death it was one cliche after another.I was not surprised when the sympathetic politician turned out to be a traitor. No one in the theatre did I guess. Having said that ranjith is a brilliant director. His intentions were obvious. A socially responsible director who uses his movie as a tool to bring out his message without being preachy. Something kamal did 20 years ago in thevar magan. It is not coincidental that a character says ” poi pullakuttingala padikka veingada”

Santosh Kumar T K: I say we need more films with North Madras folks in Proline sweatshirts and South Madras folks in kailis 🙂

nomad: About your last point, I see it differently. In “Thevar Magan” that line rose organically from the situations until then. It was a natural thing that an “educated man” would tell the people of his village, and the movie’s crux was this “educated man” getting drawn into the barbarism of the so-called “illiterates.” In “Madras,” there is no such progression. That last shot is just there. Okay, so we know Anbu wanted to do good, but that still doesn’t warrant this kind of an end.

Madras is a film which speaks about the contemporary Dalit politics in TN. Anbu personifies that section of Dalit youths who wanted to achieve upliftment of Dalit society by achieving political power whereas Kali stands for that section of Dalits who have used the affirmative policies of Indian constitution and are aloof/not caring about the condition and empowerment of Dalits. What Kali wants/is concerned about is his happiness alone and is indifferent towards the conditions of his community

Conversations between Anbu and Kali are very important as they send out the message to audience(Dalits in particular) what is needed to bring a real change in the conditions of this community is political awareness along with education. Only a person with political awareness(Anbu) will be able to fight against the oppression/injustice the society as done to the Dalits(the wall which is the metaphor for oppression). Kali is having all resources to fight against the oppression but he is not interested in doing so (he is advising Anbu to leave the wall matter aside). Only the death of Anbu shakes Kali out of the comfort zone he has put himself into and he takes upon the oppressors.

There are enough instances of scenes and dialogues which scream out loudly that is film is all about Dalits and their politics and how they are kept suppressed eternally.This is also about the betrayal of their own men towards their community.

While all these were so clear wonder why there wasn’t any reference to all these in your review. May be you wanted to keep clear of controversial politics out of your review or don’t want to give space to talk about Dalits in your blog(You don’t have any reservations to talk about brahmins and their references in movies in your reviews)

I am plugging here a few more twitlongers written in Tamil about the importance of this movie and what message it says and how has mainstream reviews have tried to muzzle down the real message of this political movie and reduce it to yet another commercial masala revenge movie.

Ravi/Masilan: The reason I didn’t talk about this in the review is that I didn’t see it that way. Can you point out the parts of the film that specify that this is about “Dalits” in particular and not just about “not upper caste/class”? Thanks.

Film is at its best to come out with Clear much needed Political Message without any glaring propaganda. | Wall Theme – Repeat shots of the “The Wall” well lit and the area surrounding the Wall in complete Darkness puts a straight message across. | Blue Color – I missed noticing it while seeing the film but could relate now its Significance and its dominance through out the Film | Dalit Society Dynamics is at the Core of the Movie – Kudos to the Director !

All the links which I have shared have spoken about how this movie is about Dalit politics. But let me try explaining why I see this as a story about Dalit protagonist.

First to eliminate that this is not about upper class.

The story is set in North Madras Housing Board and Slum clearance constructed houses. These houses are LIG houses (lower income group) typically of 500 sqfeet total area and the characters inhabit these houses watching free TV provided by the government and the luxury of bedroom given only to the bread winner and the rest resting in sofa and on floor in the living space. So they aren’t upper class by any standards.

Now coming to the caste angle:

When the movie is introduced with voice over how the wall has become a focal point of conflict after two estranged political friends demarcated their territories and when it came to deciding whose picture should the wall carry in the opposition held area, Jayabalan character’s first reaction to people opposing goes something like ” நேத்து வரைக்கும் நான் போட்ட பிச்சையில வாழ்ந்துகிட்டு இருந்த பிச்சக்கார பயலுக இன்னைக்கு என்னயவே எதிர்த்து பேசுற அளவுக்கு துனிச்சல் வந்துடுச்சா” .This pretty much establishes the character is talking about the superiority of his social status and how he cannot come to terms with the fact that these crowd which was once subservient to him have now started asserting their rights over whose picture should be drawn in the wall.

There is a conflict and the “area people” talk about how they get to decide whose picture should the wall carry and there is voice from crowd “அடங்கு டா” and he replies back அடங்கா, ”அதெல்லாம் அந்தக் காலம்”. This clearly sets the reason for conflict is more on the caste lines and the first toll of this is life of Anbu’s father who was from the oppressed community and who dared to speak against the oppressors.

Present generation children of oppressed community are shown clearly in these three characters Kali,Anbu and Viji. Viji politically sides with that of oppressor party without realizing how he is still subjugated to untouchability when he visits the house of Jayabalan’s children (the dining table scene where he is not allowed to sit said in a politically correct way as something like “அவன் நம்ம வீட்டுல எல்லாம் சாப்பிட மாட்டான் அண்ணா”). Later when they wanted the services of Viji to kill Kali they ask him to sit in their house and Viji sits reluctantly. This is not a scene which is thrown lazily around but to tell how the evil of casteism and untouchability is still deep rooted in the minds of oppressors

Having this understanding of the story till now we can further understand the nuances of the conversation between Kali and Anbu as I have said in my previous comment.

In India Ambedkar is now reduced to the level of being only a Dalit leader and his photo is hanging in the wall of Anbu’s house and is shown in climax in Kali’s school. Anbu’s wife name is Mary and Anbu is shown placing a document before the photo of Mother Mary showing their christian identity further suggesting they are Dalit Christians a social event which happened in TN where Dalits largely converted to Christianity to escape from oppression of Hinduism

Not to mention images of historical and present generation leaders who have spoken and fought against oppression world over are spattered all over the movie Che Guevera sporting Kali, Bob Marley on the walls even Thirumavalan’s (leader of VCK a Dalit based political party based in TN leader) poster finds its way in the movie.

Buddhisim and Dalits have a long standing relation and the director brings in the image of Buddha at a very apt time of the movie It’s in that hotel where Buddha statute was there does Kali get the truth about who was behind the death of Anbu and is enlightened

P Ranjith the director from his first movie has been very vocal on whose his characters are beef eating hero and heroine in அட்டக்கத்தி was obvious cultural reference to the fact what community his protagonist are hailing from.

I can keep coming back for more if required but for now I think I have put forth my arguments as to why this story is about Dalits

balaji vs: What has the director got to do with your (or my or masilan’s) viewing of a film? Once the film is out the only person who matters is the viewer — and the important thing is that masilan has offered a reading backed with evidence from within the film.

The point is not whether you or I agree, or whether we *see* or *read* the film the same way. I still think that the film can be seen as the story of lower-income-group people (without them necessarily being Dalits), but the evidence masilan offers is compelling and interesting.

Another instance of identities in contemporary environments is Karthi being ignored by the girls in the IT office. Though the voice over affirms of being reminiscent of his “attakathi” level of the guy ‘not knowing to communicate’ isn’t a lazy throw in. Dalits being looked down upon in modern office set up is what I perceived that. No matter Dalits get educated and work in computer offices, caste is still not forgotten in office gossips.

@masilan wow very nice observations ! I have seen pa ranjith’s interviews and he says he wants to keep making movies about the people living in north madras. So I had an idea this movie is going to be about dalits. But your comment was much more illuminating.

Seems like pa ranjith has ‘pulled a jigarthanda’ on karthi and studio green, so to speak …

@venkiraja
Interesting comment, but not sure I agree. I work in an IT office ( as typical an IT office as it can get) , but I don’t think , anyone is ignored because of their caste or office gossip being about caste. From what I have seen , office gossip is mostly abut boss bashing.

venkiraja/ Srinivas R: I think we should be careful about identifying Dalit characters in cinema based on factors like “comes from North Madras” or “is poor” or “is ignored by office colleagues.” These descriptors could apply to non-Dalits too.

@kums This movie scores over jigarthanda in that it pulled a rope a dope on the society at large, not just the movie industry.. The fact that most people could not notice the finer elements in a story told without any unnecessary distractions/twists is a sad state of affairs. It is the story of our people, people who reside not too far away from our homes and ones we meet on a daily basis. It talks about current day-day politics like direct punches thrown about Dharmapuri riots et. al. A seminal movie for that very reason IMHO.

BR the best part of this review is the comments section where Masilan places the movie is its context. I mean it as a compliment in that such discussions are allowed to take place in your blog. I noticed a few of the cues he mentions but couldn’t connect them. Kudos.

About your review itself, I agree the ending was lame and that Karthi overplayed the heavier portions. The movie would have been better with a newcomer/not a star. Indeed I was half hoping for the Kaali character to pop off and for Anbu to don the mantle of change/revenge. But of course that would never happen.

Where I don’t agree is your elevation of ‘Satya’ as some standard bearer of such political movies and comparisons thereof. Seriously? I watched Satya at the time and again a few years back. The movie hasn’t aged well at all and cliches abound (remember the local dada keeping Kamal’s sister’s thaavani in his possession!) I don’t want to go on and convert this into a review of Satya but the acclaim given to it is classic example of halo effect in play.

One of the big problems in Indian/Tamil movies in the past is they never stayed true to their supposed genre. This problem was quite acute in star vehicles. I think we are coming out of that curse but there is still some way to go.

Ravi: Hmmm… while I agree that this film’s milieu was not correctly identified by most viewers/reviewers, I don’t know that it “pulled a jigarthanda.” That was a very subversive kind of filmmaking, and the kind of film no producer would have produced had he known what was really happening. This was a more mainstream movie. The setting apart, there’s not much here that’s not been seen earlier. And that’s why I wouldn’t call it a “seminal” movie. The details masilan pointed out should have accrued into a more hard-hitting and unique movie, but by settling for a generic story, the director has settled for less.

But yes, I agree it’s somewhat sad that we remain so segregated that we can’t pick up on these things even as they flash before our eyes.

Prasanna A: I didn’t mean to elevate “Sathya” as a great film — just that that film provided a template that this film follows (too faithfully, unfortunately). IIRC, “Sathya” was the first hard-hitting film along these lines, talking about the urban youngsters swayed by opportunistic politicians. KB’s “Achamillai Achamillai” did that too, but that was in a more rural setting.

Can people recall if there’s any film pre-“Sathya” that did this sort of thing in an urban milieu? (“Pudhiya Mannargal”, “Ennuyir Thozhan”, “Indira”, “Aaydha Ezhuthu” etc. came later.)

About your note on your comments section, I agree. This is what a comments section should do. The review is but the beginning, an initial set of thoughts… No review can cover ALL aspects of a film, and the comments section should continue the discussion. It doesn’t happen as often as I’d like, but when it does, it can be really thrilling and worthwhile (as it happened recently with “Jigarthanda”).

@Brangan: What we identify with “places” here is the inherent caste that hails from that locality. What is identified as “accent” is that of the majority oppressing caste of the place. We used to have “colonies” which are generally in the peripheries of any small town, which generally housed dailts. (SCs and STs as well) What we call Kongu accent is of the majority Gounders of Coimbatore, what is Nellai accent is the Nadars in the place, what is Madurai accent is wha Devars generally speak. And, to make this stance much more convincing, we all know what Goundamani refers to as Mylapore thayirsadham in Indian. (Though Crazy Mohan actually wears “eer kuchiyila potta kodu”, subtle sub-sects aside) The common question “Endha aalunga thambi neenga?” asked in general to acquaintances is more or less synonymous (and is in most cases preceded by) “Endha ooru thambi neenga?” because the place is identified in close connection with the community. This is why Madras, in bold red, with a star replacing the dot in ட் becomes a significant clue in classifying and asserting that Madras, the place is associated to the people who reside there, in what is left of the newer “Chennai”. And, I’d like to go back to Attakathi, which Masilan points is about the ‘beef-eating’ hero who is uncomfortable to speak with women. Even if we chose to overlook it citing examples where he is not at ease in talking with girls in the same locality and probably of equivalent communities, I don’t think the same logic can be applied to Kaali of Madras. The office goers who choose to reject Kaali, are definitely not shown as from the same “North Madras” quarters and are associated with the upper classes. He is indeed much more comfortable when he tries to communicate with the girl who lives in the same area and pumps water in his street, with much more confidence. The social stigma is definitely there.

venkiraja: I get — and agree with — a lot of your latest comment. My question, then, is this: Does anyone who speaks with this “accent” qualify as a Dalit? An autorickshaw driver in South Madras could talk the same way. A slum dweller in South Madras could talk the same way. What would you label him? And if you’re taking the looks of the office goers, don’t Kaali and Kalai themselves look like they belong with this office crowd rather than with Anbu and others?

A person making a film on Brahmins needn’t spell out things. A dash of an Iyer accent, a forehead marking, a flash of the poonal on a barechested elder in the family — that’s enough. Similarly, it’s not difficult to identify the Chettiar household of, say, “Pirivom Sandhippom” — what with all the “aachis” etc. And even if the film hadn’t been titled “Thevar Magan,” we know they are Thevars because everyone’s addressed as this-Thevar or that-Thevar — it’s in their very names.

But with Dalits, it becomes tougher. It can’t just be the place — I have a friend from Vyasarpadi and he’s a Mudaliar. So my question is purely academic, from a filmic POV: Had you not heard Ranjith’s interviews, would it still be easy to identify a Dalit milieu in a movie?

I am not disputing the Dalit milieu in *this* film, as Masilan’s points have pretty much convinced me. I’m asking… in general.

@Brangan: Well, this is indeed the crux of the whole situation. I’ve tried to take this example elsewhere on twitter quite a few times, let me ask it to you as well. Kamalhaasan has portrayed several shades and has sported many accents on Tamilnadu’s rural as well as urban folk. He has typically characterized the average tamilian’s facets at several levels. And this, I think is his most underrated as well as defining contribution he has made to the history of Tamil films itself. The closest anybody would come to Kamal would surprisingly be director Hari. I need not elaborate on the Brahmin representation of Kamal, I think. With one Sakthivel – as Sakthivel Thevar in Devar Magan, as Sakthivel Naicker in Nayagan and Sakthivel Gounder in Sathileelavathi, Kalyana Sammandham and Sathyamoorthy as Mudaliars in PKS and Sathya, we see blatant representations of the respective caste he belongs to. (even though the protagonist is reluctant to flaunt it in a few) This has been the common trait among all oppressing castes – they make it known, however dalits don’t. We don’t know whether Poovaragan of Dasavatharam is Pallar or Parayar. We don’t know for sure where he hails from. They choose not to disclose this, or at the very least flaunt that famously. Coming back to Madras, we do know they are all of the oppressed classes, but do we know which oppressed class they belong to? Have we ever known that? In one instance in all of Tamil film history, a dalit character announcing his caste? We only get derogatory phrases like Eena payaluga (Subramaniyapuram), Singama Yaanaiya Panniya? (Kadhal) and so on. The accent which ‘Ganja’ Karuppu, Samuthirakani and Jai sport are all not entirely different. So, are they all of the same community? Bharath in Kadhal? He doesn’t identify himself as someone who is oppressed, but rather tries to blend in with the general accent of the others in town. The point I arrive at, is that when we identify accents and characteristics of particular communities/ small towns, we often end up in associating it with the majority of the oppressing caste in the region, but in case of Dalits, it has’t been the case. They are all secluded in colonies of the past and slums of the present, but have not been confined to one particular caste. Kaali and Anbu necessarily need not belong to the same caste, but could both be Dailts and could face the same discrimination. What they try to do is break this “wall” of discrimination from two ways out. If you include Viji, we have three ways out. Kaali (by maybe availing reservation offered to the oppressed) through education and economic equality with the upper class, Anbu by gaining equality through political power, Viji, from within by winning over the trust of the upper classes. And to simply answer your question, no, it is mighty difficult to identify ‘dalit’ with simply the accent of an auto-driver or Vannarapettai. (another instance of caste, there) It is quite complicated. (P.S: On further thought, the only instance where a SC/ ST caste name is loudly mentioned is in the case of Kuravan/ Kurathi.)

Sir, after a long time i am seeing someone who has actually bested Rangan in analysis. I agreed with all your points. Kudos for an excellent comment..i hope you keep providing such alternative perspectives from Rangan, who, for all his claims of having seen “seamier sides of Chennai”, frequently finds himself lost north of Fort of St.George ;). If you have a blog, please do share the link.

I would be glad if you would corroborate me on a few more points that i saw that would add your extensive observations:

1) the split away party in this movie is called “Makkal Viduthalai Kazhagam”, in an apparent nod to Viduthalai Siruthaigal Katchi.

2)Kaali and Anbu are, i suspect, different castes within the Dalit fold, with Anbu being Maari’s caste..Maari is shown to tell Karthi not once, but thrice in the movie that while Karthi and Anbu are “only” friends, Anbu means more to Maari-the specific phrase being “en pulla maadhiri”.

3)when Maari is asked to drink liquor while discussing the deal, he is shown to be hesitant, initially uncomfortable whether to accept Kannan’s gesture whereas in a caste-neutral scenario, this little awkwardness, similar to Viji being asked to sit, would never arise.

Many other such points may also be there, but you have already spotted many of them and I think a more careful watching may reward the discerning viewer.

Rangan sir, no offence to you, because, other than the unforgivable omission of caste in a film fuelled by it, your review was, as usual, very good. Agreed particularly reg. the last half hour.

And how could I forget this one stunner of a dialog that places this film so unambiguously: when Anbu says to Kaali: “Tamil, tamilnu onna nippaan, aana jaadhi, mathamnu vandhutta udane kathiya thookiruvaan.”

Wow, this is actually an unusually politically incorrect film and thank heavens for that.

Not related to this, but I find it interesting that the director chose to name this film “madras”. I know “vada chennai” is already taken by someone else, but still… The title reminds me of a childhood conversation with a friend reg chennai and madras.
He used to insist that the they meant two different areas..to be precise, everything north of central station, to him, was madras and everything to the south was chennai. Perhaps he was not so far off the mark after all.

BR, prior to Sathya there were Kann Sivanthal Mann Sivakkum and Ezhavathu Manithan which can be classified as political movies. But they were not about urban youngsters being exploited. The theme was about exploitation of specific caste or class of people. In that context, Sathya is simplistic in that the politicians are portrayed as big/bad people while the hero/friends are small/naive guys looking for a livelihood. And try as I might I couldn’t recall any subtle undertones.

The only offence I take is in your insinuation that I make claims of having seen “seamier sides of Chennai…” Here’s a recent Facebook post of mine that got a ton of likes 🙂

Auto ride. I am on the phone. A car comes speeding from the opposite side, wheels over a largish puddle, and sends a sheet of water that splashes over me and the auto driver.
We both swore instinctively:

Me: Fuck!
Auto driver: Otha!

Ladies and gentlemen, the two faces of Chennai.

So I make no such claims. What I do like to assert is that Tamilians come in various shades and that each one is a valid specimen. This point usually comes out in the comments sections of the reviews of Gautham Menon movies 🙂

PS: Has no one else picked up on (or is intrigued by) the horror aspect? I thought it was very distinct, and it’s the one thing that made me very curious.

Aravindan R: It’s but natural that we miss things we’ve not been exposed to all that much. I have harped on this many, many times. We all approach films through our individual prisms, and a lot of this has to do with our exposure, our upbringing, our interests, etc.

Prasanna A: Again, I am only referring to the template offered by “Sathya,” a template that to my mind wasn’t in earlier Tamil cinema. And this film follows that template pretty faithfully.

A template is a blueprint, an archetypal structure — on which a filmmaker can then build. For instance, the “template” for the Karthik character in “Agni Natchatiram” harks back to (at least) “Manohara”, which was the story of another angry young man upset with his father for taking on a mistress. The two films are very different, but this “template” is the same

So even if “Madras” is “subtler” than “Sathya” (I’m going to disagree with you on that), it still harks back to that template. Unless, of course, someone can recall an earlier film with this template. As you said, “Kann Sivanthal…” and “Ezhavadhu Manidhan” were political films, but not really adhering to this template.

The point of interest in “Madras” is the Dailt undercurrent, but as a narrative the film is fairly cliched. In the sense, the detailing is great, but the superstructure isn’t all that great.

A nice discussion. A very uncomplaining question: when you write things like “we don’t buy it” or “we feel something ” instead of “I”, is it that you really share your opinion with fellow journos or friends or fellow-watchers and get a consensus on these views or is it the “I” in respectful form ( Hindi “hum”)? 😜

About your question, it’s really made me wonder. It’s certainly not the first thing — I don’t really get to talk to anyone between watching the film and writing the review. So why do I use “we”? Maybe to point out that some parts are experienced by all — and not just me? I really don’t know. Because when it’s an individual reaction, I use “I” — as in the first para… “that’s how I saw the film.”

You could tie a writer up in knots by asking him to explain why he uses the words he uses. A lot of this is done so fast and comes so much from the unconscious that making him aware of it and making him look for an answer is a surefire path to basket-casery 🙂

Glad that this discussion is taking place in this blog. Anyone who is familiar with dalit politics / lifestyle would have picked up the not-so-subtle clues in the movie that point to the dalit roots of the main characters.

In a scene after anbu’s death , karthi is shown reading a book that masilan mentioned . In the book shelf there was the bright blue colored autobiography of ambedkar collection , something you can find in every educated , politically active dalit household , if they dont bother to hide their caste. The ambedkar photos in the heroine’s home, spewing blue paint on the wall in an important scene .. it was all there.

Ambedkar photo on the wall is a sure fire way to indicate that the character is a dalit.i have noticed this in many v sekhar movies and recently in sasikumar’s poraali( in the house of the village girl and her father who help the hero in the flashback)

Kamal has always touched upon the caste identities of his characters. Rohini’ s character in virumaandi was shown as a dalit. Apart from the Christian name , when the shady police plays the ’10 questions to know your caste’ game ( which is the favourite game of tamil society) , she replies “keezhvenmani” with such an intensity that makes the police guy visibly uncomfortable. For those who do not know , keezhvenmani is the place were a bunch of dalits were burnt alive for asking for more wages.

@brangan “poi pulla kuttingala padikka veingada” is such an epic phrase , it means different things in different contexts .I was introduced to ambedkar’s writings as part of my studies.”poi pullakuttingala padikka veingada” It is something ambedkar has repeatedly said in so many different ways in so many instances.fits the intention of the movie perfectly.

It is no doubt that ‘Madras’ deals with the subject of Dalit Politics.
But nobody other than a dalit can portray such a sensitive subject with a brilliant script like ‘Madras’, which I assume Pa.Ranjith is a dalit too. He understood all the problems faced by the people from North Madras and he succeeded in giving them an image that they’re not rebellious all the time. But they can be rebellious if they’re opressed.

Just wondering why you are bringing in sathya and subramaniapuram. shouldn’t it be sunny deol’s ” arjun” and subramaniyapuram. Felt you conveniently ignored the fact, just because it is a movie that kamal copied.

ram: IIRC, the film credits Javed Akhtar, and more importantly, it’s not a frame-by-frame remake — so I would use the word “adapted” rather than “copied,” but yes, it is “Arjun.” I refererred to “Sathya” simply because it seemed to make more sense while discussing a Tamil film.

Good write up (mirrored my thoughts for most parts 😀 ) . This should have been an mediocre if not poor movie plagued by poor writing. But ranjith’s direction literally saves the movie, and has made us fall for it, if not compelling us to rave about it. This guy is an beast I say 🙂 , and with some and good- writing collaborations and casting choices he’ll can make terrific movies at will.

As for the message at the end of the movie I sincerely hope it wasn’t the director’s intention, and even if it was he’ll not repeat it again.

Santhosh Narayanan is another beast, 🙂 with both his songs and score adding tremendous value to whatever movie he is associated with. I just cannot imagine Jigarthanda without Santhosh Narayanan, and the way he complements whatever is happening on screen. The quality gap in experiences of listening to his songs before and after watching the movie is tremendous. And also the way he refreshingly blends gaana with rhythmic pop like beats, I have fallen almost everything he has done so far now. Hope he continues the good streak.

Good question. Though Fandry isn’t a commercial/mainstream film, so it could afford to be more authentic — and more instantly “recognisable” as a Dalit film.

After people pointed out the things above, I thought it would be interesting to talk to Ranjith about the Dalit angle that many of us missed — and I assigned a reporter. But Ranjith said he couldn’t talk about this till the film was in theatres. In the sense, it was having a successful run because it was not being seen as a Dalit film, but as a general commercial film. Otherwise the film would face problems, especially in the interiors.

That said, after this interview, I wonder if his future films won’t face this same trouble? Will they slot him as the guy who sneaks in Dalit “messages” (for lack of a better word) into what look like harmless commercial films?

I find it interesting that he looks at cinema as a tool to address social concerns. Wonder if this is really possible with today’s audience. IMO, the days when a film like Parasakthi could transmit its ideologies to the viewer are long gone. Today, most people just see a film as a story or as entertainment. I doubt there’s much “takeaway.”

In Vennila Kabadi kuzhu, there would be a scene where the team first goes to the nearby village for a game. Some umpteen times removed cousin of one of the guys from the team recognizes the relation and calls them for lunch. When the daughter of the house serves them food, the grandmother would question first indirectly and then directly about their caste and figure out that actor Vishnu (I forgot the character name) is a dalit and the ensuing the “All are humans with same blood, lets take away god” kind of dialogues. That would be the angle, I guess.

IMO, the days when a film like Parasakthi could transmit its ideologies to the viewer are long gone. Today, most people just see a film as a story or as entertainment. I doubt there’s much “takeaway.”

If a single movie can bring in awareness or transmit ideologies, no. But movies over certain period of time – a decade, or two – should definitely transfer the prevalent ‘mood’ or ‘opinion’ or ‘belief’ of something. When more and more movies which depict Dalits – like Ranjith does – it would be easier for someone without any prior knowledge of how the community works to at least not grasp if a Dalit is his/her colleague in Infosys. Art reflects society, after all. As more and more art brings in inclusiveness – if it is not on your face and not preachy – then, definitely it would be easier to take in things, just that it would take a really, really long time to do that.

Thanks for the link, BR. It was a good read. And I agree with you on the fair and lovely part. It was definitely a commercial compromise. That girl who acted as “Mary” would have been the perfect heroine. Now, there is a dusky beauty who can act.

Did I really make that typo?! I meant, “not gasp if a Dalit is his / her colleague in Infosys” And that was more to say, we needn’t always assume they suffer, but that they do come up and live happily in our system – which is what Ranjith seems to be driving in his interview.

Please, I am trying to muster up enough courage to attend interviews and start back my career (trying to forget the slew of horrendous managers and silly customers I have had in the past), and there you go scaring and scarring me! 😀 I have never worked in Infosys, though. 🙂

When I watched Madras, I was inclined to take the fair skinned heroine also as a political statement – that Dalit doesn’t necessarily mean dark skinned or impoverished. Never mind that it was probably a commercial compromise. Orey kallula rendu manga 🙂